


Happy Endings are for Fairytales, and Baby, This isn't Cinderella

by insecurephangirl



Category: Phan, Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Self-Harm, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-13
Updated: 2017-04-13
Packaged: 2018-10-18 05:54:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10610637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/insecurephangirl/pseuds/insecurephangirl
Summary: um hi i did a thing and pm i just got angsty





	

**Author's Note:**

> pls no kill me

Dan wanted Phil. Dan loved Phil. Dan would do anything for Phil. Phil didn't want Dan. Phil only loved Dan as a brother. Phil wished he could do just this one thing for Dan.

Phil wanted to love Dan. He wanted his best friend happy, he wanted to feel the butterflies, but he didn't. They weren't there, his feelings for Dan were perfectly platonic, and the only feeling in his gut when Dan tried to get a rise of him was guilt, guilt that he wasn't what Dan needed. So, accidentally, he played Dan. Played the younger boy like a fiddle, telling him he loved him, taking him on dates, kissing him with a fake fire that he wished he could ignite for real.

Dan thought Phil was his prince, the only one that could ever take the pain of living away, the one who could lure him into a fairytale of love and no loss. Dan liked being with Phil very much. He liked the sleepy morning kisses, before either had brushed their teeth or combed their hair, he liked the quirky dates they went on, he liked the feeling of Phil's skin on him late at night as they tangled themselves in Phil's green bedsheets.

Phil thought Dan needed a prince. Phil thought that it could be him. It wasn't him, he knew it deep down. Phil could stand the kisses, the warmth of Dan's mouth on his own, he didn't mind sitting a little closer to Dan than they used to, but he didn't like the sex. He felt like every time he touched Dan's bare skin, he left a scar, he felt his skin burn in guilt and pain. He knew one day he'd end up breaking Dan's heart, but he wished it didn't happen like it did.

It was the beginning of the new year, 2022. Phil dreaded this year, it was either marry Dan or break him. Phil would blame Chris for his troubles, but it really was Phil's fault. Why couldn't he just tell Dan he didn't love him, ask to just be friends? He just couldn't. He couldn't hurt Dan like that, he loved him, platonically, of course.

At midnight Dan grinned widely before slamming his lips into Phil's. Phil felt his stomach drop as he wrapped his arms around Dan's waist. His heart ached as Dan hugged his neck, pushing their bodies closer together. Phil felt Dan smile into the kiss, and almost cried when relief filled him as Dan pulled away.

"Happy new year, love," Dan breathed into Phil's hair as they hugged. Phil didn't mind the hugs, not at all, if he cleared his mind he could even picture them as just friendly embraces. Two platonic friends that just happened to share a flat. They were that at one point, and Phil missed that time. The time when he didn't lie to Dan more than tell the truth. Friends shouldn't lie to each other. Boyfriends should definitely not lie to each other.

Then it fell apart.

"So, you going to marry me now?" Dan said, his voice teasing. Phil wished he could just see it as a joke, but he couldn't. He saw it as the fork in the road. Do the wrong thing and keep lying or hurt Dan. But really, if it hurt Dan, it wasn't the right thing. Not to Phil. But yet, sometimes people end up making mistakes.

"Dan, I um, I think we should just be friends... like forever," Phil said softly, pushing Dan off of him, pushing the person who loved him more than anything right out of his life. He tried to convince himself that they'd still be friends, that he could just say he wasn't ready to marry anyone and that he did love Dan in the way he wanted, but he didn't. He couldn't lie to Dan another minute. "I love you, I really do, but not in the way you love me, I'm sorry I lied to you,"

And Phil couldn't meet Dan's caramel eyes because he knew he'd see his best friend's heart break, right in front of him. Instead Phil glued his eyes to his laps, watching himself twiddle his thumbs.

"Oh God, Phil, please, tell me this is a joke, please!" Dan pleaded, grasping tightly onto Phil's shirt so tight his knuckles turned white. Those fingers, once the ones that fit so perfectly into the spaces in between Phil's, soon clumped themselves into a sobbing Dan's tangled hair. "Oh God! Why Phil? Why did you lie to me? How could you?" Dan screamed his throat raw and sobbed until there were no more tears. Phil wanted to scope Dan up into his arms, lie to him, tell him it was okay, but it wasn't. Phil lied to Dan. That wasn't okay, not at all. So, he had to get away, maybe never see Dan again, because he couldn't see that face again. The one he used to scatter kisses on early in the morning. The one he caused tears to stain one fateful morning.

"Go to sleep, I'll be gone by the time you wake up," Phil finally spoke, his voice was gentle, but it still sent sharp daggers into Dan's already crushed heart. He patted his friends leg before getting up, not letting himself look back at the shaking form of his friend. He didn't want his last memory of Dan to be so broken and sad, he wanted to remember the happy, smiling Dan. He wanted to remember the smile he put on that face, not the tears of anger and heartbreak.

Phil made good on his promise, he was gone before Dan woke up in the morning. But it wasn't hard, Dan didn't even go to sleep until long after Phil had gone. He knew that once his eyes shut he'd be faced with those sea blue eyes and that raven hair, and he didn't want to see it. Never again.

The sound of water rushing was the next thing Dan heard after Phil's voice. The flat that once was filled with the sound of their laughter was deadly silent for the time in between. Dan always liked to be alone, but that was different from being lonely. Now he was lonely. He wished Phil was lonely too, but he was sure Phil was off to the next heart he wanted to break. Dan loved Phil. He loved him so much, but then he hated him, hated him so much. Phil broke him, broke the man he once fixed. Shattered the heart he once glued back together. He left Dan lonely and broken.

Dan rolled off the couch and stumbled into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him and looking his reflection right in the eye. He looked at his red eyes and the shadows underneath them. He looked at the tear stains and sadness that covered his face.

That night Dan painted a picture. He drew with a knife, and let his skin be the paper. Phil didn't like when Dan did that, but Phil wasn't there anymore. He bleed like it didn't hurt and dug into himself like it didn't affect him. Phil left, and with him he took parts of Dan. The best parts. The happy parts.

So Dan planted a garden of pain. He watched the flowers grow and cover his thighs and wrists. He let it cloud his thoughts, and he hated to admit it. He hated to admit that he was so weak. He hated how he loved it. The water turned orange as his blood washed away, leaving red puffy splotches that would sting much worse the next time cloth covered his masterpiece of pain.

Dan carved Phil's name into his skin. With straight lines that didn't spell anything. Still, it said 'Phil'. Salty tears dripped across the marks, making them sting even worse, but Dan didn't care. He didn't care about much once Phil left.

Dan ran out of room on his body for his art, so they started to overlap. One slice would make a cross with another, and some began to heal, some scab, some scar, but most glittered red. Most were fresh. Clothing covered a lot, more than most people knew. Dan slowly began to hate his legs, he hated the marks, so much that he never looked at them, never wore shirts or jeans with rips. He never wore short sleeves either, or bright colors. Bright colors were happy, and they screamed at Dan. They screamed of Phil and how much Phil meant to Dan, how Phil was Dan's bright colors. Until he wasn't, and he was black and white.

Dan made other friends after time without Phil. A razor, the bottom of pill bottles, the bottom of hard alcohol bottles that burned like fire when they traveled down Dan's sore throat. He liked it though. The fire numbed him, made the pain less noticeable. Dan needed Phil, and it was pathetic, then again so was Dan.

Phil saw Dan one last time.

Sleeping peacefully, face pale and hands neatly folded over his shrunken stomach. Phil had a little taste of Dan's pain that night, and soon he lay next to Dan. Pale and cold.

**Author's Note:**

> r u angry bc like thats my goal jfs


End file.
